


Swooning

by InsaneTrollLogic



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, psych au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:23:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1348951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneTrollLogic/pseuds/InsaneTrollLogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started to go wrong when Jim fake-swooned into the Vulcan’s lap. (The Psych AU in which Kirk is Shawn, McCoy is Gus and Spock is Lassiter.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swooning

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ 9/17/2009.

It started to go wrong when Jim fake-swooned into the Vulcan’s lap.  
  
If McCoy was honest with himself it had probably started to go wrong the second he let Jim finagle them both into the Starfleet police station claiming to be a psychic. He’d gone along with it because Jim was a damn fool likely to get himself shot at the first sign of trouble and McCoy was a medical student for two years before his ex brought him to financial ruin with nothing but pharmaceutical sales to fall back on. The pre-divorce McCoy would have probably quashed it before letting it grow like it had but the post-divorce McCoy was bored.  
  
He didn’t know how they’d made it this far. Six months into the business of Jim being a fake psychic. It shouldn’t have worked at all but Jim was a force of nature, a freak accident of personality, daddy issues, razor sharp deductive skills and a hell of a lot of luck. McCoy was just there because someone needed to patch Jim up when he came back from a case beat to hell and spitting blood with a grin and a new lead. McCoy had gone to two years of med school and patching up Jim Kirk was the only use he got out of the ordeal.  
  
Though he would never admit it but he liked this work, liked working with Jim to beat the green-blooded hobgoblin to the scene of the crime. Liked even more when he was the one who saw the key piece of evidence before Jim though those instances were few and far between.  
  
He liked this life. It was the first time since the divorce that he’d actually enjoyed his work.  
  
And then Jim swooned into the Vulcan’s lap.   
  
And everything went to hell.  
  


***

  
  
He knew he’d warned Jim about this before. If you wanted to pretend to be a psychic there were certain things you simply did not do. You did not use it as an excuse to pry into the stunning junior detective’s personal file stating was unbecoming for a psychic not to know a first name. You did not advertise your supposed gift to Orion who, when confronted with a psychic would try to put them to death for the abomination. And you absolutely, one hundred-percent did not under any circumstances touch the touch-telepath.  
  
The other two were forgivable. The other two were rules Jim could break (did break) and keep this life. But the touch-telepath really could read minds.  
  
And the touch-telepath could be the end of them both.  
  
He had to bite his tongue keep from spitting out his true sentiments.  _Damnit Jim, I was just getting used to this._  
  
Both of the Vulcan’s eyebrows were raised which according to Jim is as close as Vulcans get to a ‘what the fuck’ face. Uhura was staring at them with mouth ajar because if you’ve been in the SFPD for more than twenty minutes you know the number one rule was Do. Not . Touch. The. Vulcan.  
  
“Mr. Kirk,” Spock said. His voice was perfect measured but there was the special tone of  _you are one annoying bastard_ that only Jim could elicit. “Will you kindly remove yourself from your current position.”  
  
But Jim had a hand on the Vulcan’s neck, still pretending to be in the throws of one of his visions not even realizing that his little charade had just ended for good.  
  
“Jim, get off him.”  
  
Jim didn’t get off of him. Jim rather dramatically lets his body go limp and his best friend sprawled in the lap of that Vulcan was not the kind of thing McCoy ever wanted to see again. So he pulled his friend up by the collar of his shirt and glanced apologetically to Uhura to say, “I’m sorry. He gets like this during these episodes. We’ll get going.”  
  
“I’m fine, Bones,” Jim protested. “Really.” A second later the charade was back in full force and he only saw through it because he’d spent the last seven years of his life learning this man’s ticks. “Sometimes the visions take a lot out of me.”  
  
“We’re going,” McCoy snapped.  
  
The Vulcan hadn’t moved. He was staring at Jim with calculating eyes.   
  
McCoy didn’t wait for the fallout. Not this time, he dragged Jim through the doors and toward the exit of the station.  
  
Behind him, the Vulcan mumbled, “Interesting.”  
  


***

  
  
After that the staring started. Detective Spock, for all McCoy liked to needle him was the best detective the SPD had ever had. In fact, McCoy had heard rumors that before James T. Kirk had blown onto the scene and routinely started showing up everyone around him, Spock had been on the short list for chief.   
  
Now, Jim spent his days slowly showing the world that the unflappable detective wasn’t quite so unflappable. McCoy could see it in his eyes. Kirk was Detective Spock’s one great mystery, the only thing on this world logic refused to explain.   
  
So Spock watched Kirk and McCoy watched Spock watching Kirk and waited for the other shoe to drop. The detective began showing up at the Psych offices unannounced or under the precursor of a chess game with Jim. Instead of watching Jim’s antics when he psychically divined a clue, he would follow the eyes to see where it came from.  
  
Jim kept going. He solved case after case with a hand pressed to his head as he interpreted the spirit’s messages. And no matter what McCoy said, no matter how much he protested he kept touching the damn Vulcan.  
  
He knew he wasn’t the only one who saw it. Uhura approached him two weeks after it had started to say, “Bones, you’ve got to stop him. I don’t think he knows what he’s doing.”  
  
It will never cease to amaze him that the nickname out of all the others stuck. When he’d first met Jim, he’d been introduced under a different alias every time. He’d been Jazz Hands and Scrooge McJones and Gumbo “the sailboat” Green but the first time he’d been introduced to the Starfleet Police Department, he’d been Bones McCoy and it had stuck in a way the others hadn’t. “Have you actually met Jim?” he growled. “Short of a damn leash there’s no hope in stopping him.”  
  
“I think Spock’s getting uncomfortable.”  
  
“The green-blooded hobgoblin was born uncomfortable.”  
  
“Look,” Uhura said. “I am not Kirk’s biggest fan but he gets the job done and it would be a shame for us to lose him. And if he keeps needling Spock, we’re  _going_ to lose him.”  
  
“Vulcans don’t get annoyed.”  
  
Uhura shook her head. “Bones, I don’t think you understand. You know what Spock does after a hard day on the job?”  
  
“Goes home read a textbook?”  
  
“No, Spock goes to the shooting range and blows the shit out of things. Repressing emotions doesn’t mean they’re not there.”  
  
“Are you saying Spock’s going to lose it and try to shoot Jim?”  
  
“I’m saying Kirk should look before he leaps for once in his life.”  
  


***

  
  
The questions started next. Simple needs for clarification on Jim’s visions or a wry comment about truthfulness. Little things like, “I find the leap between and earth movie from the 1980s and this case highly illogical,” and “would you please describe to me the physical nature of this spirit you encountered?”  
  
He caught Jim in a trap more than once. ( _The spirit was talking to me. I couldn’t actually see it---Then how did you know he was of above average height and build?---He had a very robust voice._ ) McCoy kept waiting and waiting for the inevitable jail sentence, for Spock and Uhura to show up at his doorstep to say  _Sorry, Bones. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will—_  
  
“Vulcans are touch telepaths,” he reminded Jim after every episode that ended with him Jim’s hands draped over Spock’s shoulder. “You keep touching him and he’s going to know you’re lying.”  
  
“I know what I’m doing, Bones.”  
  
For a genius, Jim Kirk was an idiot.  
  


***

  
  
Three months later, while McCoy was in Psych attempting to calculate just how much more money he needed to re-enroll in med school while continuing alimony and child support. It didn’t look promising. He groaned and leaned back in his chair. This was in danger of becoming his life and his best friend could still lose it with a single mistake.  
  
“Mr. McCoy?”  
  
He looked up to see the Vulcan at the door. He glanced around the room. “Jim’s not here.”  
  
“It was you I came to visit,” Spock said. He was wearing what McCoy assumed were street clothes but didn’t look at all different from the polished gray suit he wore every day at the office. “Over the past few months I have been observing James Kirk quite closely.”  
  
“You could observe Jim your whole damn life and still not understand half of what makes him tick.”  
  
“I have come from several conclusions about his current venture and was curious as to your involvement in his charade.”  
  
And there it was. His new life sacrificed on a platter just like the old one. He considered lying but there was something in his gut that wouldn’t let him. “Spock, if you’re going to take Jim down, I’m going down with him.”  
  
“Fascinating,” Spock mumbled. “And highly illogical given the human fondness of the lie. Why do you not look to further your own career? I have spoken to Uhura. She, as I do, feel that you and Kirk, under different circumstance would have been quite adept officers for the SFPD.”  
  
McCoy had to keep himself from scowling. “It’s a human thing. Solidarity. He’s my best friend. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”  
  
“Very well then, Mr. McCoy. This conversation has been most... enlightening. I thank you for your assistance.”  
  
He stood up to leave but McCoy called out to him before he went through the door. “Spock! This is going to break him you know.”  
  
“I fail to see how a simple exposure of his deceit is detrimental to Mr. Kirk’s health.”  
  
“His dad died when he was six minutes old,” McCoy said and part of him hated himself for allowing the Vulcan such a private piece of his friend’s life. “He was a cop. There was a hostage situation at the hospital. Officer George Kirk—“  
  
“Officer George Kirk showed great courage in the line of duty,” Spock cut in, sounding like he was reading a report, “acting as a decoy to draw out the perpetrator and allow the sharpshooters a chance to eliminate the threat. He died in the line of duty but that death saved the lives of no less than eighty hostages. I had no idea James Kirk was the son of such an esteemed officer. He is nothing like him.”  
  
"Jim had a mom who wanted her husband back and her sons out of the force so he spent his whole life running away from everything he was good at. Now he’s finally found a way to stay out of the force while at the same time doing what he loves. You can’t rat him out. If you’ve got even an ounce of human blood in you, you’ve got to keep this away from the chief.”  
  
He hated begging. Hated even more that the recipient was the emotionless void known as Spock. Hated Spock’s answer most of all: “I fear that such an option is already out of my hands.”  
  
He couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed. Not so much for himself but for his friend. “I have no idea why Jim actually likes you.”  
  
“Nor do I,” Spock replied evenly. “Though I have become rather accustomed to his presence. I am more than aware of your distaste for me, but I do nonetheless wish you peace and long life.”   
  
He folded his hand into that goddamned Vulcan salute and it took every ounce of McCoy’s self control not to punch him in the face.  
  


***

  
  
He went to Chief Pike the second after Spock left. Pike greeted him without surprise. “Close the door, Bones.”  
  
“Name’s McCoy.”  
  
“You wouldn’t protest so much if you didn’t like it,” Pike said shortly and not for the first time, McCoy realized just how smart this man was. “Since Kirk isn’t here, I’d assume you are coming to talk to me on his behalf.”  
  
“You’d assume right. But I’ve also heard Spock beat me here.”  
  
The corners of Pike’s mouth twitched upward.   
  
“Jim needs this job, sir,” McCoy said. “He’d never say it and he’d never fight for it, but he needs this job. You didn’t know him before. He got into bar fights every week. You have no idea how many times I had to pull his sorry ass back together. He’s  _better_  when he’s here, sir.”  
  
“You know I knew his father,” Chief Pike said, standing up slowly. He had a pronounced limp in his walk, product of a bullet wound that had almost robbed him his legs. “One of the most brilliant minds ever seen in the SFPD. He had incredible instincts and would solve cases by force of will more than anything else. He--”  
  
“Everyone’s heard of George Kirk,” McCoy snapped. “But that’s not Jim.”  
  
“Jim was offered admission to the academy upon his graduation,” Pike said carefully. “His aptitude tests were some of the best we’d ever seen. I wasn’t the only one sorry to see him turn us down.”  
  
“I know this story,” McCoy snapped. Jim slept and fought his way back and forth around the country for almost eight years. He picked up jobs that didn’t last in places he didn’t stay with people he never saw again. And that was before they even got into the criminal problem. Jim was the lethal combination of smart, bored and just plain reckless.  
  
“Imagine my surprise when Spock attempted to have him booked. The psychic bit was a godsend. I might never have another Kirk in uniform but that doesn’t mean I can’t have him in the SFPD.”   
  
Realization crept up on him slowly. “You knew the whole time.”  
  
“We have access to James Kirk’s medical records.” Pike was smiling now. “His psi-levels are non-existent.”  
  
“So why not end this charade before it started?” McCoy felt his voice rising. “Why not stop Jim from making a mockery of you and your precious institution?”  
  
“Under other circumstances, I would have offered boy Kirk and yourself admission into the police academy without question. I almost did. I knew he wasn’t psychic and I had means to prove it.”  
  
“So you should have confronted him at the beginning! You shouldn’t have let it get this far.” You shouldn’t have let him start to need it. You shouldn’t have let  _me_ start to need it.  
  
“You know Kirk better than anyone. What do you think would happen if we confronted him?”  
  
The anger drained out of him slowly. “He’d run. He’d be out of this town before the dust even settled.”  
  
Pike settled back down into his chair. “I want Kirk here and I want him helping. If I have to pretend he’s a psychic, so be it.”  
  
“What exactly did the Vulcan have to say about your position?”  
  
“Detective Spock can certainly see the merit of people like Jim Kirk around the SFPD even if he does not always approve of the method. I believe his direct words were that he ‘believed that a man of the skill of James Kirk should not be allowed to languish without training of a more profound level.’ His suggestion was that both Kirk and yourself attend the academy for training.”  
  
“Jim would never do it.”  
  
The knowing smile was back on the chief’s face. “You would though.”  
  
“We’re talking about Jim and not me. Are you going to let Spock bust him?”  
  
“No,” Pike said slowly. “No, I’m not.”  
  
“Thank you, sir.”  
  


***

  
  
It went on like it had before. Jim kept touching the Vulcan and the Vulcan kept just staring at Jim. So McCoy ignored it and rolled his eyes at Uhura as Pike watched it all developing from his office.   
  
Jim got them into trouble. Jim talked them out of trouble. Jim got three teeth knocked out and bitched while McCoy packed the wound and dragged him to the ER. Jim got them kidnapped McCoy had four bones in his fingers broken before Spock showed up and pumped three different rounds into them before moving to Jim’s side. Uhura was beside McCoy a few seconds after that, helping him to his feet as he cursed Jim Kirk, luck and the world in general.  
  
He was never going to follow Kirk blind into a situation like that again.  
  
Three hours after that, Christopher Pike had an application in his hand and McCoy sitting across from him in a sour mood, half doped up on painkillers trying not to think of the rehab that was going to go into getting his fingers to function normally again.   
  
“McCoy, is this a joke?”  
  
“Does any of this look like a freaking joke to you?”  
  
“Bones--”  
  
“You told me once you’d have taken me and Jim to the academy if we’d applied. Now I’m applying. Can you use me?”  
  
“Does Mr. Kirk know about this?”  
  
“Jim’s got to grow up sometime. Me, I’m growing up right now.”  
  
Pike nodded once and handed back his application to the Starfleet Police Academy, a bright red stamp with accepted in the upper right hand corner. “We could use a few more like you and Kirk, Bones.”  
  
He could read the thought hanging in Pike’s mind like the psychic Jim pretended he was. Where Jim Kirk goes, so does McCoy. They were a package deal and the entire SPD knew it.   
  
McCoy, holding the application, knew it was finally his turn to take the lead.


End file.
